Baby, Don't Get Hooked on Me
by yulegabriel
Summary: Gabriel, Naomi, Hannah, and Castiel keep Shurley Home for Children on its feet since Chuck left. None of them have seen Raphael, Michael, or Lucifer in months. Sam Winchester is seventeen and in his last year of high school.
1. Intro

Gabriel grinned, his hand jammed in his freshly filled pocket and his other hand gripping his guitar case. He made more than thirty dollars in the four hours he spent at the fountain, playing popular songs from the last ten years and the songs he wrote. Today was a good day. Gabriel walked his usual route, down sidewalks and through alleys, making his way home to the only one he knew.

Shurley Home for Children stood on the end of the street, big, yellow, and almost cheery with its neat lawn and multicolored sign. Gabriel went inside and slipped out of his shoes and set his guitar down in the room that closest resembled a living room. He went upstairs to give Naomi most of the money he earned busking, and her eyes widened in pleasant surprise at the sum he pressed into her palm. Lately, Gabriel had hardly managed to bring home twenty dollars after hours of playing for the public. He played on Sunday afternoons and worked at Donna's Roller Rink from five to midnight every day, except Sunday, earning a little under $150 every two weeks. Almost every penny went into the upkeep of the Home and all of its underaged residents; when there was money to spare, it was used to .

"Have you seen Castiel today?" Naomi questioned after tucking the money away in a shoebox. She was off on Sundays as well, but she worked in a small law firm, a secretary at the front desk. With no money to spare for education outside of high school, neither of them could get better paying jobs.

"Yeah, around seven he woke me up and said he was called in to cover someone else's shift at the gas station, which means he's working, like, ten hours today," Gabriel replied. "Uh, you know, that guy, he hasn't been around lately, has he?" His face went from relaxed to having his eyebrows crinkled together and an almost-frown.

"No, no, certainly not. Not since the last time, when you were here," Naomi reassured him. She smiled carefully. "Would you mind making dinner for the little ones today? I," she paused. "Have a thing."

"Yeah, sure, no problem. What kind of thing?" Gabriel grinned.

"None of your business, Gabriel. I have plans. Call Hannah at work and ask her if she had time to make the grocery list. I'll be buying food while I am out."

"Yes, ma'am," Gabriel nodded, and it was only a little bit sarcastic. He went downstairs, back to the main room with the phone and scanned the short list of everyone's work numbers taped next to it. He dialed the number for Gracie's Diner and asked for Hannah. "Hey, Hannah, didja make the list Naomi asked for?"

"Yes," her voice was somewhat strained.

"Perfect. I'll tell her it's ready to go. Thanks, doll," Gabriel put the phone back on the hook. "She has the list made," he called upstairs.

"Perfect. Now, dinner for the children, make sure Castiel doesn't work overtime on top of the added shift, and please put the children to bed before nine." Naomi spoke as she came down the stairs. "I should be home before nine, but if I'm not, please make sure they all go to sleep."

"Sure thing, boss," Gabriel smiled. "Now get going, you deserve a break."

Sam put his book down with a sigh, wondering when he would have time to go to the library again. There was a stack of four books in the corner, all of them finished, waiting to be returned. He let himself fall backwards so he was laying down and contemplated letting his brother in on a secret; there was no conceivable way he would ever tell his dad, but he wanted someone besides Tessa to know. As if Sam had summoned him by thinking of him, Dean tapped on his door and stepped in before he answered.

"I got off early today, do you wanna go to a movie or something?" Dean spent a lot of his spare time with his younger brother, knowing how often Sam and John got into fights over so many things. Dean was the closest thing Sam had to a refuge.

"Sure. I can buy the popcorn," Sam smiled, relieved he wouldn't spend the rest of the day in the house. He pointed to his pile of books. "Can we drop those off at the library?"

"Yeah, no problem. I heard Animal House came out on Friday, a buddy of mine at work said it's worth watching."

"Sounds good." Sam followed Dean out of the house, carrying his books. The car was still running outside. Sam set the books on the middle of the benchseat in the Impala, buckling his seatbelt and reaching for the radio. Dean smacked his hand down.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," Dean pulled out of the driveway. Maybe Sam would tell him later.

"Two tickets to Animal House," Dean requested at the window outside of the theater. The redhead behind the glass smiled and passed the tickets through the slot in exchange for some dollar bills. They walked into the dark, air conditioned theater together and chose seats near the middle.

"Anna, please just lay down," Gabriel was almost begging by this point. The rest of the children in the room were sleeping or laying down quietly. Naomi was still out and about, Cas was saying good night to the older kids in another room, and Hannah was taking a shower because someone crashed into her and made her cover herself in greasy food toward the end of her shift. The front door opened and closed downstairs, and a flicker of relief ran through Gabriel.

"Naomi, Anna won't go to bed," Gabriel hollered.

"Oh, good lord," Naomi sighed, coming up the stairs and walking down the hall. She knelt down by Anna's bed. "Dear, you need to get some sleep so you can go to school tomorrow, like a big girl," she calmly spoke to the six year old, gently taking Anna's small hand in her own. "Go to sleep, or you'll end up sleeping in school tomorrow, and then you'll get into lots of trouble!" Anna giggled and nodded, rolling over and pulling the blanket up to her chin. Naomi kissed her forehead, and Gabriel watched from the doorway.

"How the hell do you do that?" He asked as Cas exited the older children's shared room, closing the door behind himself.

**If you enjoyed this, stay tuned for more later on.**


	2. Closet Chronicles

The elementary bus rolled to a stop outside the Home. A cluster of fifteen girls and boys raced each other to the opening bus doors, pushing each other and laughing. Gabriel watched from the door, making sure everyone got on the bus. Since school began in August, none of the elementary level kids had tried to skip school, but it was nice seeing a group of children eager to go to school in contrast with the seven middle and high schoolers who had to be pushed out the door and watched closely. He smiled when Anna boarded last and the doors closed behind her. He caught the tail end of Naomi scolding one of the older kids about staying in bed until the very last minute as he made his way back through the house.

"Make sure Balthazar doesn't miss the bus, I'm nearly late for work and he's just woken up," Naomi told Gabriel in passing, zipping up her jacket and breezing out the door to their shared car. Gabriel nodded and stood outside the bathroom.

"Hey, man," he tapped on the bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe with his left arm. "You gotta hurry up, because if you miss school, I'm the one who faces the consequences. You know how Naomi can get when she's pissed."

"Yeah, yeah alright. I woke up late but I'm almost entirely ready to go, so if you'll just bugger off," he left his sentence open ended and flushed the toilet. Gabriel shook his head, an almost-grin on his face as he walked away to make sure the other six were by the door with their school stuff.

"You guys have something for breakfast?" Gabriel asked.

"Yeah," Uriel answered.

"We had cereal. Hannah didn't make anything this morning," Samandriel added, shifting back and forth on his feet.

"Can't have blueberry pancakes and perfectly cooked bacon for breakfast every morning, bonehead," Gabriel teased.

"It would sure be nice," Uriel murmured. Samandriel agreed with him as the bus pulled up and Balthazar still hadn't come downstairs.

"Damn it," Gabriel muttered. "Balthazar, get your skinny, British ass down here, you're gonna miss the bus!" He hollered as the other six dragged their feet outside to the waiting yellow vehicle. "Tell the bus driver to wait a minute, please, Hester," Gabriel requested. She turned and nodded a few steps away from the bus. Sighing loudly, Balthazar bypassed Gabriel, who called "Have a good day at school, buddy!" He joined his sort-of-siblings on the bus, and Gabriel retreated to the room he shared with Castiel to get a few hours of sleep before the children returned from school.

Sam waved goodbye to Dean as he walked away from the Impala and up the sidewalk to the metal school doors. A bus rounded the corner and pulled up alongside the school and let off a bunch of high schoolers. Sam shrugged his bag up on his shoulder some more and held the door open for a brown-haired girl.

The first few periods of the day rolled by, and it was lunch time. Sam hung his backpack up in his locker before heading down to the cafeteria. He scanned the buzzing room for Jess and soon spotted her by the salad bar; he muttered an 'excuse me,' to someone and slipped in line behind Jess.

"Hey, Sam," she greeted him warmly. He smiled and returned the 'hey.' "Have you told your brother yet? You mentioned you wanted to."

"Nah. Not yet. I'm still trying to gauge the way he might react. I might wait until I finish school, because if he reacts badly, my dad will probably find out, and I won't really have a place to go."

"That's smart. Can't say my parents would be happy if I brought a gigantic, sad, puppy home, otherwise I would say you can stay with me," Jess joked softly.

"It's alright," he reassured her, scooping some canned peaches onto his tray before moving out of the line and following her to a table already occupied by Dorothy and Charlie. They both paused their conversation to look up when Sam and Jess pulled out chairs and sat down, Charlie grinning brightly and Dorothy smiling in a little more subdued manner.

"So, as I was saying, my parents are gone for the weekend, do you think you can stay over one or both nights?" Dorothy's eyes sparkled as she directed the question at Charlie.

"Oh, are we studying, again this weekend?" Charlie suggestively asked. Dorothy nodded at the question, her lips twisting upwards. "I'll be sure to ask when I get home, then."

"You guys are so cute," Jess commented after swallowing a mouthful of wilted lettuce. Sam agreed and kicked down the emotion creeping up; he didn't want to call it jealousy, but he couldn't think of a better fit. Sam chewed up a piece of broccoli, imagining it was whatever he was feeling and swallowed it down. Imagining emotions as physical objects he could do what he willed with made it easier to deal with them. Jess looked at him, concern easily readable on her face.

"Everything okay?" She murmured cautiously. Sam fixed his face to be cheerier and nodded eagerly. Jess matched his expression, but her eyes still looked worried.

"I forgot something in the car," Charlie stood up with her empty tray, Dorothy standing up barely a second later, adding that she was going to walk Charlie outside.

"Ooh, you're so sneaky," Jess teased them. Sam waved as the two walked away together and pushed that feeling back down again. Jess turned to him after Charlie and Dorothy were out of sight, taking his wrists in her warm hands. "Sam, something's eating at you. My best guess is seeing those two. Is it the fact that they're gay and they're together or is it just that they're together and you're," she paused. "Not really dating anyone?"

"I don't know, Jess, I wish I had a," he stopped, reluctant to say 'boyfriend.' "I wish I weren't single, but I really wish it could be easier; I wish I wasn't, this way, you know? I can't tell my dad, and I don't know if I can really tell my brother. That's part of the problem. But there's also the fact that I have no idea how to go about finding someone who really digs me but also is like me."

"I've heard a bit about gay bars," she suggested uncertainly. Sam laughed.

"I'm seventeen and don't even know where to find a gay bar. I want to go to college, and I feel like being caught in one of those, especially underage, really hurts your chances of a good college accepting you. Or probably even considering you, unless you're some kind of superstar."

"But you are, Sam, you're brilliant. You read all the time, you have an A in every class and have since kindergarten, and you're taking a bunch of difficult classes. You're also one of the nicest people I know." She had released his wrists, but continued reassuring him.

"Stanford doesn't care if I'm nice, and you take almost all of the same classes as me. You're brilliant, too, Jess." Sam felt a little better.

"Thanks," she smiled and looked at the carrots on her otherwise empty tray. "So, about those gay bars?"

"No way!" He laughed again, this time it was genuine.

Gabriel twisted himself into his blanket and clutched his pillow tightly, shaking before jerking awake, his eyes damp and his lips curled in between his teeth.

The space between his eyebrows hurt from contorting his face while sleeping and his fingers were sore from gripping the pillow so hard. He rubbed the moisture out of his eyes and reached for the glass of water on his nightstand to swallow the dryness out of his mouth. The inside of his lips were broke open and bleeding a little from biting on them. He took a deep breath and checked the hall clock on his way to the shower, making sure he had time to shower and make a snack for the elementary kids. The clock told him it was almost two, which meant he had an hour and a half before the elementary kids would be home.

Gabriel locked himself in the bathroom and turned the radio on and loosened up when David Bowie's voice filled the small, tiled room and the hot water pounded down on his back reassuringly. He pressed his hands up against the shower wall and let his head limply lean against his arm, breathing slowly. Her face flashed in his mind again, the last few shreds of his dream skimming over his mind.

Kali had entered Gabriel's life when he was finishing up high school. They immediately sparked some kind of connection, and it was like nothing else he had ever experienced. They became inseparable within weeks, and everything was white hot and electrically charged and they didn't want to let go, and Kali was going places with her life. Gabriel followed her for a few months; he left the Home behind with all of his brothers and sisters. He was only eighteen.

One day, Naomi called him, her voice panicked. Castiel ran away from home, only days before his sixteenth birthday. Gabriel immediately told Kali he needed to go find his little brother. She quickly became upset and gave him the choice between staying and continuing as they had for the last six months, or leave, find his brother, and let her be. She was tired of hearing him hurt over the separation of himself and his unconventional family. He never directly spoke about it, but he dropped hints often, and she caught him staring off into space, his eyes distant and tinged with longing, at first once in a while, and after months, it was a daily occurence.

Gabriel turned to face the water, scrubbing his hands over his face, ignoring the ache in his chest. He shampooed his hair and washed his body with a linen scented bar of soap before shutting the taps off and grabbing his towel off the hook. He roughly jerked the towel around his body and against his head and stepped out of the tub with one more deep breath, regaining most of his composure. He flicked the radio off and went back to his room to get dressed.

When the children came running up to the door and flowed into the kitchen, Gabriel had graham crackers with white frosting on napkins set out on the table. Hael sat next to Anna and started answering Anna's questions about second grade and requests for help with math, because "Hael is so smart and she had the same first grade teacher I have!" Gabriel smiled and poured everyone half-cups of Tang and asked them questions about school. He was reminded exactly why he belonged here, with his siblings-by-choice, giving them snacks and looking out for them. "How was your day, kiddo?" He patted Inias on the head before returning the pitcher of orange space juice to the fridge. "Good," he answered after taking a swig of his juice.

"Put your napkins in the trash when you're finished and rinse your cups, you know the drill," Gabriel told the chattering kids as he went to sit in the other room and wait for the middle and high schoolers. "I think Naomi asked me to make sure you guys clean up your rooms and finish all of your homework," he called in the direction of the kitchen, and was answered with a chorus of sighs and "Noooo." Laughing, he issued another statement. "But I'm cool, so you guys can just play after you have snack." They all cheered and gave thanks to Gabriel before returning to the normal volume.

The bus with the seven older kids pulled up and let them off. Samandriel, Ingrid, Hester, and Uriel went to the kitchen table to do homework. Gadreel dropped to the couch with his backpack and started reading The Grapes of Wrath, Balthazar jogged straight upstairs to his shared room, and Neil switched on the TV and sat cross-legged on the floor. Minutes later, the younger ones all finished snack and dispersed from the kitchen. They went outside or to their rooms to play with each other.

"Don't they have homework, Gabriel?" Neil asked from the floor.

"For sure," Gabriel replied.

"Then why are they playing?"

"Oh, you'll see." Gabriel assured.

Dean picked Sam up from school like always, his Led Zeppelin t-shirt peeked out from under his brown jacket. He asked Sam about the school day and his friends, sounding genuinely curious.

Sam considered telling him Charlie and Dorothy were lesbians, just to see if he had any kind of reaction, but decided against it. Instead, he told Dean about his latest test scores and that he needed to work harder on his math class or he would end up with a B.

"Man, a B isn't even bad. What are you, trying to prove you're smarter than your big brother?"

"Well," Sam joked. Dean looked at him with a half smile and smacked his arm.

"Guess I didn't set the bar very high by working in an auto shop. Speaking of which, Jo says hi, and Ellen invited us over for dinner next weekend, if you're not busy."

"Dean, who are you kidding? When do I ever have anything to do on the weekends, besides hang around with you and occasionally Jess?"

"You'd probably be pissy if I assumed you had no plans. So, this Jess girl, is she?" He trailed off, his implication clear as day.

"No, not really. She's not exactly my type," Sam decided that wasn't an outright lie.

"Yeah? What is your type then?"

"Uh," Sam paused. "Never really thought about it, but I don't want to date her. She's a great friend, but not someone I want to kiss or anything."

"Huh," Dean remarked. He parked in the driveway and cut the engine. "I'll be in after a bit. Go on inside." Sam nodded and shut the Impala door behind himself and went into the house. He saw John asleep on the couch, and, unsurprisingly, an empty Jack Daniels bottle on its side by the couch. Sam picked it up and tossed it in the garbage and peered in the fridge for leftovers. He decided dinner would be spaghetti after discovering the only leftovers to speak of were moldy steaks from two weeks ago, when Dean cooked.

"Dad, wake up," Dean rustled their father a few hours later, after Sam finished his homework and made spaghetti. Sam had the plates freshly dished out and set on the table with silverware and glasses. John seemed to be less of an asshole when things were ready to go when he woke up. "Sammy made dinner."

"What's for dinner?" He rasped, slowly sitting up on the couch.

"Spaghetti. Come on, he's got it all on the plates and ready to eat. It'll be cold if you wait longer," Dean urged cautiously. John looked at Dean as if to ask 'who is the adult here?' But he said nothing and rose to his feet and joined his sons at the table.

Gabriel hollered, "Naomi's gonna be home in twenty minutes, you guys have until she gets home to get your homework done and your rooms straightened up!" Confused and betrayed sounds came from all of the children. They all raced downstairs and confronted their older brother.

"Jeez, you guys, haven't you ever heard the story of the grasshopper and the ants?"

"Yes," Hael spoke up. "The grasshopper didn't do any work all summer, and the ants did work all summer, collecting food and supplies, and when winter came, grasshopper was starving and cold and the ants refused to help him because they'd told him all along that he should be preparing for winter."

"Very good, Hael. Did the rest of you hear that?" Gabriel tried not to laugh, but he felt like the lesson was successful. "What does this mean to all of you?"

"We should do important things first?" Inias asked.

"Ding ding ding! Correct! Work first, play later," Gabriel smiled at them. "Now, seriously, go get your stuff done, she's going to be home and she's going to be pissed if I didn't do what she asked."

After dinner, they sat down on the couch twelve minutes into the seven o'clock news. The headline was "San Francisco Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk Killed." Sam frowned and inched closer to the edge of the couch, away from John. Dean sat on the floor, his eyebrows close together.

"Serves him right," John grunted. Dean didn't turn around but asked "What's that?" Sam winced, but kept his mouth shut and refused to look at his father.

"Faggots don't belong in politics," John clarified. "They should just keep quiet like they did for so long." Dean said nothing after that, and Sam adjusted the way he was sitting, trying to get a look at his brother's face. It was hard to read, but if Sam had to guess, Dean wasn't seeing this the same way John was. Then Sam started to worry. What if Dean somehow figured out his secret, and he was just concealing any kind of agreement he may have had with John's words on the subject? What if he was doing it because he realized how much Sam needed him around? Sam sighed and kept his silence.

Gabriel stopped arranging rollerskates by shoe size behind the counter to stare at the television. Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk dead. He thought things were improving for non-heterosexuals when Harvey Milk came out of the closet and became the first openly-gay politician, but then this happened. He felt sick.

Naomi and Castiel, besides the two guys he had messed around with, were the only ones who knew he didn't take gender into account when he was attracted to someone. He dragged a hand through his hair and grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and started wiping down the countertop, doing the best he could to distract himself from the news and his upset stomach.


	3. Stand Beside Me

Sam rolled over in bed a few hours later, mind still going half the speed of light at all the possibilities. This made it clearer than ever that John was not the one to confide in, if he ever felt the need to tell a family member. But Sam never really did think he was a prime option. Dean definitely had not shown signs of being repulsed or aggressive about the fact that Harvey Milk was gay; he didn't seem to be deeply upset about his death either. Not that Sam was going to cry over it or anything, but Milk's death certainly made him feel less safe, both in the world he lived in and in his home. He sighed and finger combed his hair back from his face and wrapped his arms around a pillow and tangled his legs in the blankets, trying to get comfortable.

* * *

><p>Gabriel tiptoed back inside the Home a little after midnight, clutching an ICEE and a half-eaten Butterfinger. He slipped out of his shoes and crept quietly up the stairs and into his shared room. Cas didn't stir in his bed when the door clicked shut behind Gabriel or when Gabriel stumbled over a stray pair of bellbottoms on the floor and he slammed his hands into the nightstand to stop himself from hitting the ground. He froze, crushed candy bar between his hand and the nightstand's surface, his ICEE somehow still upright and in his other hand. The bottom was a little squished, so he wouldn't be able to set it down, but he could still drink it.<p>

He took a breath before straightening into a standing position and propping the ICEE cup against the lamp on the nightstand before dropping his pants. He made sure to kick them off to the side. He crawled into bed and wrapped the blanket around himself, sitting crosslegged. He felt around carefully for the cup and the wrecked candybar. He found both things, and he finished them, picking chunks of chocolate and peanut butter out of the wrapper and periodically sipping from the cup. When the ICEE started to make that near-empty sound, rattling through the straw and echoing in the cup, he stopped drinking and set it on the ground, even though it was apparent next-to-nothing would wake Cas up.

Gabriel curled up in the blanket and rolled onto his side, facing the wall and clearing his mind of the news. He went ten minutes without moving or making sound.

"So, you're done eating and destroying the room?" Cas' voice rasped, a little above a whisper. _Damn it,_ Gabriel flipped to face his brother.

"Yeah, but if you'd like I can go downstairs and get a bag of chips to crinkle loudly and chew up like a cow for another fifteen minutes," Gabriel grinned, even though there was hardly any light coming in through the window and they could hardly see each other's faces. He could practically feel Castiel's scowl.

"No, thank you, that's just fine. Go to sleep, or at least be quiet, I do have to be awake for work in, what, six hours at the most?"

"Don't worry, I'll be quiet," Gabriel responded softly. He figured Cas hadn't seen the news tonight, probably too busy getting the kids to bed with Naomi and Hannah. He didn't particularly want to discuss it right now anyway. He prayed he wouldn't dream about Kali before he started to drift off.

* * *

><p>Sam groggily pulled an unwashed pair of pants on and went to the bathroom to comb out his hair. He slept too long to have time for a shower. He grimaced when he opened his mouth and caught a whiff of his own breath. Sam snatched his toothbrush out of the mirror cabinet and brushed his teeth vigorously before jogging to the door at the sound of the Impala pulling up outside. He jammed his feet into his shoes and swung into the car, closing the door and buckling his seatbelt.<p>

"Overslept?" Dean inquired, mock disapproval. Sam nodded, wiping leftover toothpaste-saliva off the corner of his mouth. The last twenty seconds of Heart of Glass faded and the radio DJ delved into a 60 second news clip. He listed the highs and lows for the day, some local news, and some national, which included Harvey Milk. Sam frowned and looked out the window.

"Dean, can you change the station?" Sam requested without turning to look at his older brother. He was tired and couldn't help but think _what does it matter if he finds out? I don't wanna listen to more about Harvey Milk anyway. It's depressing._

"Huh? Why?" He asked, but flipped to a different one. The new station was playing Donna Summer, which was fine with Sam, and probably not something Dean was against.

"Just don't really feel like hearing about that guy." Sam answered, his eyes almost drooping. Dean didn't comment on the answer.

By the time they pulled up to the school, Sam was asleep again. Dean reached over and shook him by his arm. Sam sat up sleepily and apologized before climbing out of the car without another word. Dean shook his head and couldn't help but be a little worried about his younger brother. He drove away after he saw Sam make it into the building.

"Hey, Sam, are you okay?" Jess asked him by his locker. They had six minutes to get to class. He nodded.

"I'm fine, Jess. Just really tired," he paused. "And I don't want to talk about that guy, if you're about to ask."

"Nah, that's fine. I wasn't going to," Jess smiled, lying. "Come on, I'll walk you to class."

"Thanks," he smiled as best as he could before closing his locker. They walked silently to the classroom, and she gave him a hug outside the room.

"You can talk to me about anything. I'll see you in third hour," Jess smiled and let go of him. Sam felt a little better after the hug. He only fell asleep twice during the lecture, and managed to write most of the notes down before drifting off into space and dreamland.

By the time third period rolled around, he was mostly awake and could actually smile sincerely. A substitute teacher was sitting in for the usual teacher, and "Mr. Singer," was written on the board. Sam dropped into his desk, which was next to Jess'. She looked relieved to see he wasn't totally out of it anymore. An older man walked into the room with hair combed back and a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of Wrangler's.

"Sorry for being late, I had to use the men's room," he scanned the room as he walked in. "My name is Bobby Singer, and I'm subbing today because your teacher's sick." Sam immediately recognized him as one of his dad's friends- former friends. He half smiled, seeing the man was doing well. He was young when Bobby stopped visiting. " Your teacher left me a note, he said you have a homework assignment from yesterday and that you have to read chapter four when you're finished with it. So get to work!"

"Aren't you gonna take roll?" Ruby, a girl in the back corner of the room asked.

"Yeah. Thanks for reminding me," he shuffled papers on the desk, searching for the list of names. "Gee, I hope I didn't forget to do that the last two hours," he murmured before pulling up the sheet. "Joseph Anderson?"

"Here," he responded.

"So, how are you feeling now?" Jess whispered to Sam, flipping through her textbook to find chapter four. She had finished all the homework the night before.

"Better. Less dead on my feet," he answered honestly. He scribbled down the answers to the last section of the homework. He yawned and returned the paper to his backpack before searching for chapter four in the pages of his textbook.

"Page eighty-six," Jess helped. He nodded and turned to the right page.

"Jessica Moore?"

"Here," she called. "Mind if I ask what kept you up last night?"

"No, I don't mind. I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I mean, the news last night was upsetting, and I did feel less-" he paused. "Less secure, I suppose. And I definitely didn't tell anyone about-"

"Sam Winchester?" Bobby's voice rumbled.

"Here," Sam answered. "I didn't tell my dad or Dean about me. I'm positive I won't be telling dad anytime soon, if ever. And Dean, I don't know. He didn't seem thrilled when my dad called him a faggot."

"Your dad called Dean a faggot?"

"No, not Dean, Harvey Milk. Dean didn't seem to agree with him, but it was kinda hard to tell for sure. I think maybe he knows, or is at least thinking it's possible that maybe I'm," he trailed off.

"I get it. Maybe you should ask Dean about his thoughts on your dad's words and the fact that Harvey was killed, most likely, for being gay." It sounded rational enough, but Sam always felt like he was practically screaming he loved dudes if he ever asked about anything homosexual. He nodded and considered it, but acknowledged the fact that it would require some serious psyching-up before bringing it up with Dean. Or maybe a good shot of whiskey, but that wasn't really an option.

"Boy, I ain't seen you in years," Bobby clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder, making him jump. He looked up at the older man with a polite smile.

"I know. I don't know what happened between you and dad, but I missed your visits," Sam said truthfully. Bobby's hand on his back was warm, and surprisingly comforting for such a gruff looking guy.

"Yeah, your daddy isn't the man he used to be. I've missed you boys. How's Dean?" Bobby took his hand back, casually sliding it into his pocket.

"He's good. He works down at Harvelle's. Kind of supports me, because dad, you know,"

"Yeah. 'S a shame. You know, if you ever need anything, you or your brother, you can give me a call."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam appreciated the offer. "If, by any chance, I'm kicked out of the house, do you think...?"

"Oh yeah, that's not even a question. My door's always open for you boys," he smiled warmly. Sam nodded thankfully. "Now, I'd better let you get some work done," Bobby ruffled Sam's long hair and went back to the desk at the front.

* * *

><p>Gabriel woke up to see Cas was gone, and the house was silent. He was relieved that he hadn't dreamed about anything. Gabriel got to his feet and went to the bathroom. The hallway clock informed him it was almost eleven in the morning and reminded him that Naomi would be home for lunch in a little more than an hour. He went to take a shower and turned the radio on like always, turning it up in the middle of <em>Come Sail Away<em>. He shucked off his shirt and underwear, dropping them by the door. He turned the taps on and waited for the water to warm up before pushing the curtain off to the side and stepping under the stream. Gabriel tipped his head back and let the water flow through his hair and down his back. He scrubbed his hair and body and rinsed, standing under the water for a while after the soap was all rinsed off and down the drain.

He stood long enough for the radio to switch from music to ad breaks. He cut the taps and reached out with one hand for a towel, drying his body off with the curtain closed in an effort to retain some heat. He toweled his hair roughly, shut the radio off, and returned to his room to get dressed for the day.

With clean clothes, he started moving around the kitchen, whipping up some chocolate chip cookies, both for Naomi's lunch and the children's snacks when they were home from school. He hummed a Jimi Hendrix song to himself as he combined the cookie dough with clean, bare hands. He put a piece of parchment paper over a baking sheet and used a small ice cream scooper to make little cookie dough balls, evenly spacing them out on the pan.

The first batch had been out of the oven for a few minutes when Naomi came through the front door and made her way to the kitchen. She greeted Gabriel and opened up the fridge to get slices of cheese. She dropped two slices of buttered bread into a pan on the stove and a slice of American cheese on each piece of bread. She let both sides heat up before using a spatula to put them together and flip them a couple times to make sure the cheese was melted.

"Grilled cheese again?" Gabriel teased.

"It's not like we're living in a five star restaurant, Gabriel. Eating grilled cheese pretty much every day saves money, and the taste isn't really that bad. Maybe a bit bland, but it could be worse. I could be eating Spamwiches every day." Gabriel winced at that, pretending to gag.

"That's true. Want a cookie or two for dessert?" Gabriel offered, holding out a napkin with two warm cookies on it. She smiled and accepted the cookies.

"Will there be enough for the kids?"

"Oh yeah. There's gonna be enough for them to each have two, and we'll still have a few leftovers. Hannah and Cas can eat the extras if they want," he answered confidently, biting into a cookie, the melted chocolate leaving a mark on his bottom lip.

When the kids got home, they raced to the kitchen to find napkins with two cookies and half glasses of milk next to them. There were cheers of "thank you, Gabriel!" and "you're the best!" Gabriel thanked them and went to the main room to watch TV and wait for the high schoolers. He left a big plate with cookies and some empty cups next to the half gallon carton of milk on the coffee table in the main room, and watched as the entire thing disappeared in minutes after the seven older ones arrived. Even Balthazar paused to grab some of the sweets before shutting himself in his room.

When the younger kids had all of their napkins thrown away and their glasses in the sink, Gabriel called to Gadreel and Samandriel. "Rock, paper, scissors for the dishes. Loser has to do the dishes today, winner gets to do them tomorrow."

"There's no real winner here," Samandriel noted, turning to face Gadreel. "Two out of three?"

"Sure," Gadreel didn't really care either way.

Gadreel won.

**AHA I figured out how to get the line breaks. They don't show up when you submit a new doc, but when you go back to edit a doc, it's there. Anyway, I plan to actually finish this fic. Whoop whoop.**


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel yawned and put one more pair of skates up on the rack. It was close to 11:45 and things were starting to wind down in the rink. He went and stood back at the counter, propping himself up on his elbows and watching the last handful of people fly around the track laughing while the Bee Gees streamed out of the speakers in the corners of the vast space.

"Five minutes 'til closing," Gabriel shouted, hands cupped around his mouth when the bright red wall clock above the counter read 11:55. The last three people rolled to stops and exited the skatefloor, pulling the rentals off and sock-footing their way to the counter. They gave him their skates before stepping back into their own shoes and departing together, talking about disco.

Gabriel sprayed them with disinfectant and placed them up on the shelves with the corresponding sizes. He walked around the rink and checked the bathrooms, calling "Last chance to get out," in a voice only slightly above normal volume. He shut all the lights off and turned the speaker system and music off. The restaurant section of the rink closed at ten every night, and the janitor got off as soon as everything pertaining to food was cleaned up and taken care of. After everything was shut off and the main doors were locked, Gabriel grabbed his worn jacket and left through the backdoor, making sure it was locked behind him.

* * *

><p>John was hard asleep on the couch, and had been since dinner ended. Dean was in Sam's room, sitting on the edge of the bed as Sam told him about Bobby.<p>

"Really? He subbed?" Dean sounded almost like he didn't believe him.

"Yeah, he was at school, and he said we should go over sometime. It's been a while since I've seen him, and it sounds like he hasn't really seen you around, either."

"I haven't seen him. But it was kind of a let down when he stopped coming over. Maybe we can invite him over for dinner sometime," he suggested.

"I don't think so," Sam replied quickly.

"Why?"

"He didn't say anything specific about what happened between him and dad, but he it's pretty clear he's the reason Bobby stopped coming over. So I don't think that's the best idea. Maybe we can go to his place, or we can go to a restaurant or something if we have money. But I'd say it's best not to bring him around here, you know?"

"Gotcha. But how are you supposed to get a hold of him?"

"He gave me his home and work phone numbers after class," Sam answered, getting up off the bed and grabbing his pants from earlier. He dug around in the left pocket, retrieving a slip of paper with two phone numbers, one with an 'h' and the other a 'w,' signed Bobby Singer. Sam passed the paper to Dean before getting back under the covers. Dean studied the numbers and then set the slip of paper on Sam's dresser.

"Good night, Sammy," Dean wished his brother a good night before leaving his room and closing the door behind himself.

"Night," Sam answered, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his shoulders. Maybe tomorrow he would tell Dean the truth about his sexuality.

* * *

><p>Gabriel dragged a hand through his hair, agitated. The man on the phone repeated his question. "What is your household's yearly income?"<p>

"Somewhere between zero and six million dollars,"

"Okay, I'll mark that down," he replied, no hint of joking in his voice. Gabriel frowned, irritated between the questions and the man not understanding he would rather be doing anything else. He put the phone back on the hook as the man started to ask a new question. Since when was "$0-$6 mil" a box that could be checked off on a telephone survey?

"Damn vultures," Gabriel muttered. Between himself, Naomi, Hannah, and Cas, they managed to make enough to get by year to year, with some to spare for themselves every now and then. The actual numbers and salaries hardly mattered unless they were filling out tax forms or were running negatives at the bank, neither of which were happening right now. He reminded himself it was Saturday and that meant he was only a day away from being able to stroll down to the park with his guitar. He smiled and brushed his hair back into place with his fingers.

In the other room, the kids were watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating cereal. The teens were all still in bed. Cas was the only other adult at home, Hannah and Naomi were at work. Saturdays were lazy days for Cas, apart from keeping an eye on the younger ones and helping Gabriel if needed.

Cas stepped into the kitchen, showered and dressed for the day.

"Do you need any help?"

"Nah, unless you've got a way to filter out calls telephone salesmen and surveyors."

"Unfortunately, I can't do anything about that."

"Figures," Gabriel teased, the corners of his lips turning upwards. "When's the last time you went out?"

"What?"

"Like, when's the last time you got out and did something with friends? Or even just on your own for fun?"

"I don't know, not that long ago. I don't think."

"Everyone's behaving, and if I really need help getting them under control I think the teenagers are responsible enough to give me a hand. Some of them are probably going to stick around and need to know this stuff anyway. Treat yourself, little brother," Gabriel said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

* * *

><p>On Sunday afternoon, Sam's stomach did somersaults and his fingers were losing feeling. He sucked in a breath and flexed his hands, trying to get the blood flowing in his fingertips again.<p>

"Hey, Dean," he swallowed, looking over at his brother in the driver's seat. They were on their way home from the grocery store.

"Hm?"

"Can I tell you something?" He squeezed his hands into tight fists, digging his fingernails into his palms.

"Sure thing, Sammy."

"I think," he paused. "I think I'm," he stopped again.

"Think you're what?" Dean asked, turning his head to look away from the road and at his brother. "Whoa, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"No, no I'm fine," he composed himself a bit. "I think I'm gay," he spat the words out quickly. Dean stomped on the brakes and pulled off next to a curb.

"What?"

"You heard me," Sam managed to say sternly, even though his stomach was in a million knots. Dean stared at him wordlessly, and he lost whatever fleeting courage he had briefly caught. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Sam threw the Impala door open and hopped out, slamming it behind him and sprinting off.

**sorry this update's taken so long. i had finals and one of my best friends moved a thousand miles away. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer!**


	5. I Can't Help Myself

Dean sat aghast in the Impala, caught between giving Sam some space and tailing him in the car. He watched the direction Sam ran and tried to sort out where he might be going. He sat in the driver's seat, one hand still clutching the steering wheel; he dropped his forehead against the wheel.

He didn't care who or what Sam was attracted to, and he wasn't dumb. He hadn't let Sam's behavior and occasional, subtle hints towards homosexuality go unnoticed. But he didn't honestly expect his suspicions to be confirmed today. It threw him off. He never thought of how he would react if Sam ever told him something like that, he truthfully wasn't sure if Sam would ever admit that.

He slammed his hand on the dashboard, pissed with himself for reacting stupidly, or rather not reacting at all, before looking down the street again; Sam was out of sight.

* * *

><p>Gabriel was strumming and singing A Day in The Life, his third Beatles song of the day. He looked down at his case and saw some crumpled bills and a few handfuls of change, which wasn't bad. He had only been out for two hours, after all.<p>

"_Woke up, fell out of bed, dragged a comb across my head_," Sam finally came to a stop at the sound of singing. He was breathing hard and his body was still trembling, like the anxiety of telling Dean the truth was trying to crawl its way out through his skin. This was unlike anything else, because music had never really had much of a profound effect on Sam. That was more of a Dean thing.

He turned and saw a man with light hair sitting cross legged on a park bench with a guitar, singing loud enough to be heard but gentle enough to sound pleasant. He was wearing blue bell bottom jeans and a white button down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sam was caught by the man's voice and a somewhat confused by the fact that there was some quality to his voice that managed to just sop the negative feelings right out of Sam.

Sam stood right where he stopped and listened to him play three more songs. It was an experience not quite like any other he had before. It occurred to him that other people were passing by, and some were dropping money in the open guitar case next to the bench.

He felt around in his pockets for some spare change and fished out two dollars in random coins.

Sam stepped up to the case and put the money in before turning to go. He was calmed down and had the whole walk home to sort out his mind and what he would do if confronted by Dean.

"Hey, thanks, kid. What kind of music d'you like?" The singing and playing stopped, as did Sam.

"Uh," he turned around to face the man and couldn't help himself from being at least a little stunned at the color of his eyes. They were so warm; they were like molten honey. "I dunno, a I mostly just listen to whatever my brother listens to, I suppose."

"Yeah? Name a song you like, I can probably play it. 'Specially if it'll make you smile or get that, like, completely serene look on your face again." Sam felt his cheeks warm up.

"Whuh-" he stopped short, cheeks pink.

"I saw you come racing up here and just kinda stop dead in your tracks and get this look on your face like a caveman seeing the sunset for the first time." He offered a big grin to Sam, who had an entirely baffled look on his face. "What's your name?"

"Sam," he answered softly. "Yours?"

"They call me Gabriel. Now, tell me, Sam, what's one of your favorite songs?" He repeated his question. Sam was silent for a moment, visibly mulling it over with a crease between his brows.

"I like the James Gang songs I've heard," he confided after a moment. Gabriel's face lit up and he started an acoustic version of Funk #49, which wasn't something anyone ever expected to hear. It was such a chipper version of an already cheerful song, Sam couldn't stop himself from breaking into a grin.

"_I sleep all day, out all night, I know where you're going_," someone crossed over to them and started nodding their head to the song and tapping their foot. Sam folded his arms over his chest, smile still splitting his face. He wasn't really one to dance, but he felt himself holding back from moving to the music.

There was something undeniably inviting about Gabriel. It was almost like he emanated something that created calm and peace. Sam wished he would've had more money to spare. The cheery song dwindled down to nothing and Gabriel set the guitar down beside him.

"So, if it's not too invasive, what were you running for? Or from, maybe?" Gabriel's question left Sam trying to think of the best way to explain himself.

"I told my brother something kind of upsetting," he answered thoughtfully.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he hesitated. "A personal secret that I've been keeping. I don't know how else to explain it."

"I think I get it," he offered a smile. For some reason, it didn't sound like he was just saying it to make Sam feel better. Something about the way he said it sounded genuine. "Are you planning on sticking around here a bit?"

"No, I think I should probably get going soon. I've been gone long enough that he's worried. Not that he wasn't worried the second I hopped out of his car and sprinted away, but you know."

"Yeah, I get that. My siblings and I are all pretty close, we're always looking out for each other. You don't have to answer this if it's too invasive or anything, but do you live far from here?"

"N-," Sam started. "Well, kind of. Yeah. But I was thinking the walk back would give me time to think of all the possible ways I could be confronted and how to respond without making things any worse. What about you? You live around here?"

"I'm pretty close to here. I live with my family. Well, I wish you luck with your brother, and if you're ever in need, I'm right here every Sunday afternoon," he offered another sunshine-esque smile. He held his hand out for Sam to shake, which he did with a smile of his own. "Hopefully we'll see each other around," Gabriel said as a closing. Sam nodded before stepping away, grin embedded on his features.

On the walk home, he hardly thought about the probable consequences he could be facing back at home. Sam bypassed his brother's parked car and entered the house, hints of a frown crawling into his face as reality started creeping back.

"Dean?" Sam called tentatively, seeing the empty entryway and vacant living room. Dean wordlessly came out of the kitchen and looked at his brother, expression mostly unreadable. Sam silently steeled himself, standing rigid, still uncertain of how Dean was feeling about the last two hours.

Dean pulled Sam into a hug, and Sam felt himself relax. He sucked in a big breath and blew it out shakily against Dean's shoulder.

"You know," Dean stepped back after a moment, releasing his brother. "I'm not great with this kind of, uh, stuff. You're no less my brother now. Just so you know," every word carried hesitation, but every word also carried truth. Sam nodded, relief filling his entire body.

He expected a million different ways Dean would've said he was disgusted, or worse still, Dean could ignore him completely. Shun him and leave him out of his life forever. He wasn't very hopeful when he imagined Dean accepting him, and he certainly didn't expect "I love you, Sammy, no matter what. Be gay and everything, you're still the best little brother in the whole world." They never talked to each other like that, and that was okay.

"So are you hungry, or what?" Dean's face broke from neutral into a more cheerful expression. It swept away the few remnants of tension between them.

"Yeah, what d'you have in mind?" Sam was thankful for the subject change.

"I thought maybe we could break out the grill."

"Are you going to make burgers? We haven't had those in forever," Sam was getting excited. He loved it when Dean grilled burgers.

" I thought it seemed like a good day for fresh burgers."

"You're not wrong," Sam answered. He could tell Dean was making an effort to make it known he accepted Sam for what he was, and it was sincerely reassuring.

* * *

><p>Gabriel packed up his guitar, wondering if Sam had made it home safely. He figured the guy could take care of himself; he was crazy tall and didn't look like the right guy to pick a fight with. That's how he appeared, at least. He hummed some other James pGang song as he strolled home with a sort of lightness to his steps.<p>

"You're in a pleasant mood," Naomi greeted him when he came through the door.

"Yeah? I think I had a good afternoon," Gabriel affirmed as Hannah joined them in the living room, carrying Anna on her shoulders. "Enjoy that while you can. Soon enough you'll be too big to sit on our shoulders," Gabriel directed his words at Anna, still smiling.

"Nope," Anna declared. "I'm gonna be this size forever, so you'll have to carry me like this until you're old and wrinkly like a turtle."

"Oh really?" Gabriel stepped closer.

"Uh huh." Anna crossed her arms and rested them on top of Hannah's head.

"I don't think so," Gabriel argued and started tickling Anna. She burst into laughter and shakes, trying to get away from Gabriel's hands and grabbing at Hannah's face so she wouldn't fall from her shoulders. Hannah was caught between laughing and trying to hold Anna's legs to keep her up. He pried Anna's fingers from Hannah's head and pulled her off Hannah's shoulders, setting her down on the couch to tickle her stomach and sides.

"Hael!" Anna cried through her laughter, swatting at Gabriel and flopping around. Hael came running in, blue eyes bright. She leapt onto Gabriel's back and pulled at his golden hair.

"I got him, Anna! Run!" Hael yelled, clasping her hands together in front of Gabriel's neck, hanging by her arms. Anna giggled and shot out from under Gabriel and raced to the stairway. She stood still, clutching the railing and watching for Hael to escape. Hael came running towards Anna and grabbed her hand, breathlessly laughing and pulling her upstairs and into their room, closing the door behind them.

"You'll have to come back down for dinner in ten minutes!" Naomi called from the bottom of the stairs. In unison, the girls shouted "Okay," in response. Gabriel sauntered back into the kitchen to help Cas finish making dinner.

As promised, the table was set ten minutes later and everyone was downstairs, ready to eat. There were plates full of spaghetti and sauce with homemade cheesy garlic bread and each place at the table had a bottle of Sprite.

The adults ate in the living room with Three's Company on TV in the background, talking to each other and discussing financial matters. For the first time in a year they were completely stable, and stable enough to afford a few more treats, both for themselves and the children. If the older teens wanted to get weekend or after school jobs, they would be able to keep whatever they earned.

When dinner was over and the dishes were done, Naomi called the teenagers into the living room to tell them they could get jobs if they so chose.

* * *

><p>Sam woke up on Monday and did as usual; he got ready, and Dean drove him to school, and after school he finished his homework and ate dinner with Dean and his dad.<p>

In the following weeks, Gabriel crossed his mind often. His smooth singing voice, the way his fingers agilely swept over the strings of his meticulously tuned guitar, and the way his warm eyes lit up when he spoke to Sam. He thought about Gabriel in the greatest detail he could call to memory. He came to mind when Sam was sitting in class trying to stay awake, when he and Dean were silent in the car, when they sat on the couch watching television mindlessly, and whenever he couldn't sleep. Half the time he wondered if he created Gabriel in his panicked state of mind post coming out.

"What do you think about so much? It seems like you're always thinking," Dean finally said one day.

"Well it'd be a problem if I weren't thinking, wouldn't it?" Sam joked, and Gabriel fled to the back of his mind.

"You raise a good point," Dean replied and then left it at that. Sam considered how much it really meant that Dean had asked him, but left it alone. But then what was he going to say? 'Oh, just thinking about a man I met the day I came out to you. He plays guitar and has eyes like liquid gold.'

* * *

><p>Gabriel was beyond impressed with Gadreel and Samandriel; they found jobs and contributed despite having the choice to keep it all for themselves. Balthazar had also found himself work, but kept most of the paychecks. Occasionally he came home with small gifts for his little siblings, which no one could really complain about. He chipped in for Christmas gifts.<p>

Sam crossed Gabriel's mind more than a handful of times in the months that passed, and he remembered Sam with affection, but with hesitance. He never saw Sam since that day. Why get hopeful? He barely knew Sam; he had responsibilities and felt like he lacked the emotional capacity needed anyway. So he worked and took care of things as he normally would and if Sam happened to pop up in his head, he didn't let it consume him.

Sam wasn't even an adult, was he?

He was probably straight, too. It's not like confessing something to your brother automatically meant coming out of the closet. The possibilities were endless, really. Maybe Sam made out with his brother's girlfriend or stole some of his beer without getting caught. That sounded like enough to piss an older brother off. Gabriel wouldn't be too happy if Cas came to him one day and admitted to swiping from his candy stash.

Naomi had gotten a promotion at the law firm and had become closer to the owner of the firm. What exactly "closer" entailed, Gabriel couldn't say for sure, but she spent a little more time out in the evenings on the weekends. She went from a secretary to a manager, and as a result, got a pay raise. She made enough money to start giving the middle schoolers allowance for completing weekly chores.

As far as anyone who inhabited the Home was concerned, life was good. Gabriel had nothing to complain about, but didn't know what to make of the sporadically recurring Sam-infested thoughts.

* * *

><p>Soon it was late into the spring and Sam found himself strolling down the sidewalks on a Sunday afternoon. He came to the place he first met Gabriel and was greeted by an acoustic rendition of the Four Tops' <em>I Can't Help Myself<em>, instantly making the corners of his mouth turn upwards. He followed the music to Gabriel. Before he could say a word, the music came to a halt and Gabriel waved to him. "Hey, kiddo!" Sam picked up his feet and brought himself a short distance from Gabriel.

"How've you been? I haven't seen you around at all since that first day. Sam, right?" Gabriel set the guitar across his lap. As if he didn't remember the kid's name.

"Yeah," he beamed. "Gabriel, if I'm not wrong?" _As if._

"No, actually, my name is Jeremy," he responded, furrowing his brow and pulling a downcast face. Sam's pulse shot up. _Shit, is he serious? He looks serious. Oh god._

"I'm just screwing with you!" Gabriel brightened and burst into peals of laughter at Sam's facial shifts from confused to shocked and back to relief. "So you remembered, huh?"

"I guess I did," Sam answered, his heart rate slowing back to normal pace. "Jeez, man, you really got me," he murmured, somewhere between accusatory and nervous.

"I guess sometimes my jokes come off as asshole-ish," Gabriel admitted sheepishly.

"No, no, I just feel dumb for not getting it," Sam chuckled. "But then, you _did _look pretty serious when you said your name was Jeremy. You looked so let down, I couldn't help but worry I'd messed up your name."

"'S far as I'm aware, you're not exactly what I'd call 'dumb.'"

"Thanks for that, I hope I don't do something to change that," Sam felt at ease again, just like he had when he initially met Gabriel.

"I'm not particularly intelligent, there's probably not much you could do to become dumb in my eyes," Gabriel flashed him a sharp grin, which faltered briefly. He hoped this wasn't coming off as flirting and prayed to some higher power that he wasn't flirting. God, this was complicated.

"Oh come on, you can't be that stupid. You graduated high school right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't say much. Do I look like some college guy?"

"Well, no, not really, but that doesn't have to be a measure of your brain."

"What about you? What type of education do you have?"

"I'm a senior in high school. I'm graduating in June," he answered honestly with a tinge of pride, and with some flicker of hope that this would make him seem at least somewhat mature.

"Just gotta stick it out a few more months, right? That's not too shabby," Gabriel responded, but appeared to be in thought.

"Yeah, I think I can handle it. Uh, so if it's not too much to ask, do you do anything besides this?"

"I didn't mention I'm actually loaded? Like, I could buy half this city and still have money left," he deadpanned.

"Wow, that's impressive. What are you, a really high paid stripper?" Sam tried to joke.

"How did you know? You're not old enough to go to those bad places," Gabriel feigned a 'shame on you,' tone and expression.

"I think I've got one of those older faces, besides being ridiculously tall. I can get away with a lot," Sam didn't know where any of this was coming from. He had kissed one girl, one time, and it was nothing to him. He did his homework and spent pretty much all of his free time at home or with his brother, which he felt was not something to brag about.

"Ah, I see, that's clever. I bet you can call the school and pretend to be your dad, too, and get out of class," Gabriel kept going.

"Oh sure, yeah, all the time," Sam replied quickly. "You know, what? I have to be honest with you."

"What? Don't tell me, you're an undercover cop and I'm under arrest for storing drugs in my guitar?"

"Yeah, put your hands behind your back. Anything you say can and will be held against you," Sam shook his head at the silliness of it all. "No, I'm actually a big dork and I hardly ever leave my house because I have one good friend and an older brother." He went on telling Gabriel the truth about his life, and Gabriel listened intently and periodically threw in a joke.

**this update took ages and I'm so sorry, holy crap**


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